Afterthought
by FyreBrande
Summary: Gabriel told Rahna why he and Miri weren't at Ostagar. A oneshot look into that story. Keenan specifically and Dragon Age in general belong to BioWare. Gabriel, Miri, and Clera belong to me. T rated for safety.


Thinking about it after the fact, he had to admit that he should have known better. It was never a good idea to practice anywhere other than the training area. But this had _seemed_ like a good idea at the time; after all, not every battle would take place on terrain as level as the practice ring. _But_ there was also no point in him risking injury just before leaving for what promised to be an important battle.

Unfortunately, Gabriel didn't think of that until the sound of snapping bone brought his duel with Keenan to an abrupt halt, his sword and shield clattering against the stone as he fell.

"Andraste's _teeth_," the elf hissed, ripping off his helmet and shaking his arm free of the grips on his shield as he shifted position to try to free his foot. Battling both the pain and his armor made the task basically impossible.

"Hold still. You're only going to make it worse." Keenan hastily sheathed his swords and knelt to help. "Maker's blood, Gabriel, how'd you manage this?" the man muttered.

"You think I did it on purpose?" Gabriel muttered, clenching his teeth to suppress the very unwarrior-like yelp that threatened when Keenan managed twist his foot free of the buckled cobblestones that had so neatly trapped it. "I have a feeling that was a one chance in a thousand type mishap," he said, eying his obviously broken leg with no small amount of frustration. "Lucky me. If that's not broken, I'm First Enchanter of the Fereldan Circle."

"Come on." Keenan stood and offered him a hand up, taking the weight that would have rested on Gabriel's bad leg. "We need to have the healers take care of that. Now."

"I know," Gabriel acquiesed almost reluctantly, running his free hand through his sweaty red hair. _I just don't relish Miri's reaction_.

oOo

"By the flames of Andraste's bloody pyre, what happened?" Clera's exclaimation upon his and Keenan's entrance to the infirmary made Gabriel wince. Mostly because it drew the attention of the dark skinned elven mage sitting in the corner. Miri's head shot up and she went the palest he'd ever seen her. Considering how they'd met, that was saying something.

She abandoned the elfroot she had been shredding and darted across the room. "Maker's breath, Gabriel, what-?"

"It was an accident," Gabriel cut her off with a wry grin, somehow managing not to howl when his bad leg dragged against the floor. "I caught my foot between a couple stones during our duel and fell. That's all."

"That's _all_?" Miri shot him a 'You're-not-fooling-me' look as Keenan helped him sit down on the edge of one of the beds. "Maker...All right, on a scale of one to te-"

"Nine and a half." He winced as Clera started pulling on the straps that fastened his boot. "I'm pretty sure-ow!-pretty sure it's broken, but I don't think the bone broke the skin. **_OW_**!" This time he _did_ yelp as Miri lightly rested one hand on his broken ankle.

"Sorry, l-Gabriel, but I need to know how badly it's broken before I know how to _fix_ it. Here." She scooped up some of the elfroot and handed it to him. "Chew this. They taste bad, but it'll help numb the pain. And Keenan?"

"Yes?" The rogue looked at her expectantly.

"Out, please. The fewer people in here, the better. He'll be fine," she promised.

Keenan looked reluctant to obey, but still did. There was something about Miri that made people listen to her, even if she _was_ the shortest, skinniest elf Gabriel had ever laid eyes on. _He_ even listened to her, at least most of the time. This fit under that 'most of the time' more because of the words 'help numb the pain' than anything else. The elfroot did taste bad, but sure enough, by the time the two mages had managed to get his armor off of him the pain had died to a dull throb rather than a white hot blade of agony twisting inside his leg.

Once he was down to the light-weight tunic and pants he wore underneath, Clera gently tugged up the leg of his pants until she and Miri could see his ankle. Dull as the pain may have become, Gabriel still winced when the healer touched the break.

"You were right. The bone didn't pierce the skin, which is good. It was also a very clean break, relatively easy to set and heal. With the aid of magic, I would say...three weeks before you could safely walk on it."

Gabriel and Miri exchanged a look. "We're supposed to leave for Ostagar next week."

"Well, you'll be delaying that, then," the elderly woman retorted. "You, ser, are going _nowhere _for at least three weeks. Now hush and let me set the bone," she ordered, neatly cutting off the protest forming in the minds of both warrior and mage. "Miri, I'll need your help."

She nodded. "Of course." She shot Gabriel an apolegetic glance as she held his leg still with one hand, slipping her other hand into his. "You better not crush my fingers," she whispered. When Clera pulled on his leg to set it, he had to fight the urge to do exactly that.

"Maker's _**breath**_," he ground out between clenched teeth, squeezing Miri's hand as hard as he dared.

"That was the worst part," Miri promised, reaching over to a nearby cabinet and plucking out a small bottle as Clera set to work with her healing magic. "Drink this. It'll keep it from getting infected." She shot a glance at the occupied older healer and pressed a quick kiss to his temple. "It'll also help more with the pain. I know that had to hurt like the blazes."

He nodded. "It's not an experience I ever want to repeat." He chuckled wryly before downing the reddish potion. He made a face. "That tastes odd. What's in there?"

"Deathroot, elfroot, deep mushrooms, and...some other stuff. Trust me, you don't want to know." She grinned.

"I'll just take your word on that," Gabriel chuckled. The pain started to disappear as the potion took effect and Clera finished doing what she could, for the moment at least, and the fading adrenaline left him all too aware of how _tired_ he was. He and Keenan had been at it for a while before he broke his leg, and if he added in the aftereffects of the adrenaline wearing off, it left him wanting nothing more than to sleep. So he didn't even fight the encroaching darkness as Clera reached for bandages to bind up his ankle and Miri gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

oOo

He had no idea how much later it was when he woke, but Miri wasn't there. He sat up and stretched, rubbing the back of his head. "Ouch," he muttered when his fingers grazed a smarting knot on the back of his head.

"Well, it's about time, sleepyhead," Miri teased, turning to smile at him.

"What, you were worried?"

She shook her head as she picked something up from the counter and crossed the room to sit on the edge of his bed. "Actually, yes, we were."

He frowned. "Why?"

"The lump you're rubbing on the back of your head? Clera thinks you have a concussion," she informed him.

"Oh." He couldn't really think of anything else to say to that.

"She wants to keep you down here for observation for a couple days before she lets you move up to your room." Miri sat down the bundle she'd brought over. "I got you some clean clothes; figured you wouldn't want to spend those two days in the same things you're wearing."

Considering the tunic was nearly stiff with dried sweat, he had to concede she was probably right. But he couldn't resist teasing her a little bit. "So I'm supposed to put on clean clothes when _I'm_ still a sweaty mess?"

"Of course not," she shot back. She sat the clothes down on the bed and walked back over to the counter, pausing briefly to give the handle on the door a quick tug.

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. _Did she lock the door?_ He pulled off his tunic, carefully avoiding the sore spot on the back of his skull, and dropped it on the floor.

Miri shook her head. "Men."

"Well, what am I supposed to do with it?"

She just sighed. "Never mind. Here." She sat down the basin she'd carried over and reached for a stool. "You can wash up a little. I know with that leg not to even suggest a full bath-" something teasing and dangerous flickered in her eyes-"but Clera will probably kill you if you don't at least attempt to clean yourself up before sleeping in one her beds again." She pushed up her sleeve and dipped her hand into the water, holding it there until a few small wisps of steam drifted up from the surface. "And now the water's not cold." She grinned at him. "You want help?"

"Why not? At least with the hard to reach spots," Gabriel returned with a matching grin. "And with getting to the stool," he admitted sheepishly. "I have a feeling it would end in disaster were I to try and get there by myself."

Miri chuckled. "I have a feeling you're right." She held out her hand. "Come on."

Gabriel took the offered hand and let her help as he pushed himself off the bed. It took him a second to find his balance on one foot before half-shuffling half-hobbling the few steps to the stool.

Miri reached for a rag and dunked it into the water. "Shall I start, or do you want to?"

"Oh, go right ahead," he chuckled.

She did. If the feeling of warm water against residually sore muscles wasn't heaven enough, knowing who was helping sure was. Gabriel's eyes slid closed in pure bliss as he leaned forward and braced his elbows against his knees to let her get at his back.

"Maker, you have no idea how good that feels, Mir," he mumbled, rolling his shoulders as a drop of water trickled down his spine.

"Yes, I do. Well, sort of," she contradicted, dipping the cloth back in the basin. "Remember? Spoiled Princess? Nearly broken jaw and cold water?"

"Oh, yes." He chuckled. "How'd I forget about that?"

"My guess would be that the knock on the head did more damage than Clera thought," Miri teased, swooping the rag down his back. "Or that there've been so many much, much better moments they just...crowded that one out."

"I like that tone," he murmured, looking over his shoulder at her. "It speaks of more of these much, much better moments."

"Now, now, Ser Andras. You're _injured_. No funny business," Miri scolded, pointedly staring at his bound up ankle. "Not right now. I hardly think...that kind of thing would be good for the healing process."

"Then why'd you lock the door?" Gabriel whispered, shifting slightly on the stool when his ankle twinged.

"Just in case," she whispered back, nibbling his ear as she leaned over his shoulder to run the rag over his chest, "you decide to be the incorrigible, mule-headed warrior I fell in love with and completely ignore my warning."

Gabriel smirked and turned enough to kiss her on the cheek. Miri, however, was expecting such a move and tilted her head so the kiss met her mouth instead. Gabriel chuckled into the kiss, feeling her smile as well, and raised one hand to curve around the back of her neck as it deepened. "Well, you're making it very easy to ignore said warning," he murmured, his voice rough, when she finally pulled back. "You know I love you, right?"

"Course I do. And I love you," she replied softly, her free hand creeping over his shoulder to absently trace along one of his scars. "Now, back to business." There was no missing the note of decided reluctance in her voice as she stepped back to re-soak the rag and finish with cleaning him up.

"Business is no fun," Gabriel muttered, knowing she was right; if barely brushing his bad leg against the floor made him wince, trying something with her was probably not a good idea. Plus, that concussion was starting to give him a headache.

"I know, love." Miri held out the rag. "You can do your head and neck. Just so I don't poke your eye out or something."

He chuckled as he took the dripping cloth, flicking excess water at her. "You just want to ogle. Admit it."

She may have blushed ever so slightly at that, but between the dimly lit room and her dark skin, Gabriel couldn't tell. "Can't blame me. You're not exactly hard on the eyes."

"I'm flattered, love," he grinned, running the rag over the back of his neck. "You're rather gorgeous yourself."

This time he was sure Miri blushed, poor lighting be damned, as she turned to pull another bottle of the potion she'd given him earlier from the cabinet behind her. "Time for dose two."

He glared at the bottle as he took it. "How many doses are there?"

"Three. Maybe four."

His glare intensified as he tossed the rag toward the basin. It hit the surface with a slap. "Do I have to?"

"What are you, five?" Miri chuckled, crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes, you have to take it. Unless you want your ankle to get infected and turn greenish-purple and swell up so badly we have to chop your leg off at the knee."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "When you put it that way..." He pulled out the stopper and downed the potion, making a face as the last of it slid down his throat. "Maker, that stuff tastes weird."

"At least there's only one dose left. Hopefully," Miri pointed out. "Now, let's get you in those clean clothes before Clera comes back and demands to know why I locked the door, and lectures us on how we aren't supposed to develop _that kind_ of relationship with anyone, let alone another Warden."

"What does she know? But you have a point." Gabriel reached for the clean things sitting on the edge of his bed. Because of his broken ankle, Miri had to help. Again. Not that she seemed to mind too much. Gabriel teased her about that as he pulled on the clean grey tunic.

"Oh, hush," she muttered as she helped him get back into the bed and stuck an extra pillow under his bad ankle.

"Ouch! Gentle, Mir, it still hurts!"

She just smiled sweetly as she gathered up the basin, rag, and his dirty clothes. "Sorry, love." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Oh, you want me to bring you a book so you don't get bored?" she asked, almost as an afterthought.

"Sure. There's one on Garahel in my room that I was reading, if you don't mind grabbing it."

"Not at all." Miri juggled the items in her arms to get a hand free and unlock the door. "I'll grab it when I get the chance. Clera left me a whole list of things she needs me to do."

Gabriel nodded as he shifted to a more comfortable position. "Take your time, I'm sure I'll manage." He crossed his arms behind his head and stared at the ceiling, head aching enough he was more than a little glad when sleep claimed him again.

oOo

He was still asleep when Miri returned with his book almost an hour later. She smiled and leaned over to kiss his forehead as she sat the book on the bedside table. "Sweet dreams, love," the mage whispered before leaving the room.

_A/N: Sooo, after writing chapter 36 of Aftermath, I started wondering about the details of the whole thing with Gabriel breaking his leg, and the idea for this fic popped into my head. :D Okay, yes, I totally didn't mind writing GabrielxMiri mush. Or would it be almost-mush? Hmm... either way, I got to write something with just the two of them, so I'm a happy camper._


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